


freedom tastes of reality

by lostin_space



Series: Isobel Evans Appreciation Week 2020 ❤️️ [5]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Aromantic, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Mentions of war and explosions, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25751647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostin_space/pseuds/lostin_space
Summary: With Michael's help, Isobel figures things about herself out.ORThe aromantic pansexual Isobel Evans we deserve.
Relationships: Isabel Evans & Michael Guerin, Isabel Evans/Original Character(s)
Series: Isobel Evans Appreciation Week 2020 ❤️️ [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861099
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	freedom tastes of reality

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5 of Isobel Evans appreciation: self-discovery
> 
> Made one of these for Michael and Alex, so it's Isobel's turn but make it au 
> 
> If I missed any tags, let me know

.1.

She was the first thing Isobel saw that night.

She looked like a literal angel: dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin, white clothes. Her hair was big, a mass of perfect curls forming a halo around her head and resting against her shoulders that were covered in a long white cardigan. Beneath that was a white tube top, white hot pants, white pumps. She was heaven-sent. Isobel forgot how to breathe.

Her eyes followed her to the bar all the way until Michael snorted loud enough to break her trance. Isobel looked back at him to see him smiling smugly at his drink.

"What?" she asked. 

"Nothing," he hummed, "Just wondering how long you're gonna lie to yourself."

"Excuse me?" 

Michael rolled his eyes and then looked her in the eyes.

"How old are you?" he asked. She furrowed her eyebrows.

"Twenty-one?"

"So you're an adult."

"Yes? What does–"

"And adults do things that are scary."

"I mean, not–"

"So go over there and ask her to dance and stop saying you come to a gay bar to make me feel better," Michael said, throwing a straw wrapper at her. She stared blankly at him for a moment, stumbling over her entire thought process.

"I'm not–"

"Izzy," he said, "Fuck labels. Have fun and figure it out on the way. You want to talk to her so go do it."

Isobel felt frozen for way too long. He eventually rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink.

"Or don't. Not gonna shove you out of the closet," Michael said, putting his drink down, "But I'm gonna go hit on that guy over there. Take your time." Michael stupidly pat her on the back and swaggered over to a guy covered in tattoos and who Isobel wouldn't have assumed was his type.

But eventually her eyes drifted back to the absolute angel who was already looking at her. Isobel quickly looked back to her drink.

Yeah, that girl was gorgeous, that didn't mean Isobel wanted to dance with her. It didn't mean Isobel wanted anything to do with her at all. But she was staring at her and that had her face turning an embarassing shade of red.

And when she looked up again, Angel was coming closer.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Angel asked. Isobel, bold and ever-confident Isobel, opened and closed her mouth a few times to try and find words. And Angel smiled. "I think I do." 

"I don't think–"

"No," Angel said, "I know you. I can feel it. Come dance with me."

And, well, Isobel couldn't say no.

By the end of the night, she and Michael walked home full of excited laughter at the new revelation.

.2.

Isobel decided she was blessed when a stunning, long-legged maid of honor walked into the venue.

She looked like a goddess, honestly, high-waisted jeans and a dark purple shirt tucked into them. Her sun-kissed skin complimented her short, firetruck red hair. Isobel hadn't seen the braids maid dressed yet, but she could already see her looking gorgeous in it.

"Isobel, uh, Evans Events, right?" she asked, "Daphney sent me in her place. She's sick and can't taste anything." 

"Well, you're a good friend," Isobel smiled, "Nice to meet you." 

Isobel led the way to the kitchen where the caterers had set up a bunch of cakes to test. Goddess looked over them and gave her a little smirk.

"Maybe it's unprofessional of me to ask," Goddess said, "But do you maybe wanna try these with me?" 

"Maybe it's unprofessional of me to agree," Isobel said, "But why not?"

The next 45 minutes consisted of making eyes with a stranger while trying cake, creating a new form of foreplay out of nothing more than looks. It built slow until eventually they stood closer and Goddess made an excuse to make her try a bite off her fork. Isobel hummed softly in approval and watched as Goddess licked off the excess icing after her. It was small, but heat bloomed in her stomach at the sight.

As confident as Isobel was, this was also brand new territory. She'd danced with women, even kissed them, but she'd only ever slept with men. It was a travesty, honestly, but it seemed like she had a real shot at experiencing something.

"I think this is the one," Goddess said, nodding. 

They wrapped that up as quickly as possible and yet it still felt like hours of talking and trying to make sure she didn't let this woman just _leave_. Eventually, when they finally finished finalizing that, Goddess turned to her.

"Would it be unprofessional to ask you to walk to me to my car?" she asked. 

"I mean, technically, you're not my client and my day ended with finalizing the cake choice. What we do doesn't have to be professional," Isobel said boldly. Goddess smiled slow and suggestive and Isobel was losing her goddamn mind. 

She walked her to her car and neither of them left it for the next 45 minutes.

.3.

"Don't tell Max."

"Oh, my favorite stories start like that, go on."

Isobel rolled her eyes at Michael and bit the tip of her thumb as she looked around to make sure no one overheard. She leaned against his shoulder.

"I'm gonna sleep with his new coworker."

Michael laughed, but he hid it by bowing his head when she dug her elbow into his side. Then her name was called and she left his side to grab the tray of four coffees. They waited until they got outside and started walking to the police station before they continued their conversation.

"How do you know she's into women?" Michael asked, "Actually, how do you guys do that? 'Cause I still haven't figured out how to do that if I'm not in a gay bar."

"It's all about the eye contact, Michael, Jesus, you know nothing," she scolded. He just snorted in response, waving for her to continue. "I brought Max coffee yesterday like I always do and I had to wait for him to get back and we talked a little bit and _basically_ I know she's into me."

"She said that?"

"No, eye contact, keep up."

"Oh, okay," Michael said, "How can you tell the difference between, like, normal cop eye contact and flirtatious eye contact?" 

"What do you mean? There's a clear difference between authoritative eye contact and 'fuck me' eyes," she said. Michael didn't respond right away and she gave an exaggerated sigh. "You poor, poor child."

"Yeah, whatever, I'm the one getting regular dick from a guy training to be a military officer and you're just making eyes at your brother's co worker, who's the real loser here?"

"Still you."

"Rude."

Isobel smiled and looped her arm with his, both of them grabbing their respective coffees and taking a sip as they continued walking towards the station. 

When they stepped inside, she almost immediately saw Jenna Cameron sitting posted up on her desk. She was as gorgeous as she remembered and immediately went to give her the coffee she got her.

"Didn't forget you this time," Isobel said as Michael excused himself to give them space. 

"Thanks," Jenna said, taking a sip slowly and maintaining eye contact. For a moment, Isobel could see how Michael blurred the two different types. But she could tell and it felt glaringly obvious. "You know, Max doesn't talk about you enough."

"Oh?" Isobel asked, smiling as she leaned against the desk, "Well, what is he leaving out?"

"From what I can tell," Jenna said, pausing to give her an obvious once over, "A lot."

"Well, maybe we can go out for drinks and I'll tell you anything you want to know," Isobel proposed. Jenna smirked and nodded.

"I'd like that," she said, "And maybe I can teach you a few things while I'm at it."

"Like what?" Isobel prodded. 

Jenna just shrugged, coyly taking another sip of her coffee and keeping Isobel on her toes. She enjoyed every goddamn second.

"Just a couple of things," she said, "Maybe a couple different ways to use handcuffs. You know, if you're interested."

Isobel sucked in a deep breath and her skin felt hot. It was so, so forward. She was obsessed already. _Sorry, Max._

"I'm interested. Absolutely." 

"Good."

And Jenna taught her more than a few things.

.4.

It wasn't until she was 26 that Isobel realized something might be a little off.

"Shhh, it's okay," Isobel whispered, combing back Michael's hair as he threw up until there was nothing left to throw up and he was just dry heaving and sobbing into the toilet.

He'd gotten a call from one of Alex's brothers who gave a slightly incoherent spiel that boiled down to Alex's unit having been bombed and he hadn't been found yet. There was a chance he'd never be found or, if he was, he wouldn't be found alive. Michael was a mess.

It didn't quite make sense to her, mainly because she didn't realize he and Alex were still speaking. She thought they hooked up sometimes, but she didn't notice that Michael saw it as more than a hook up. And, yeah, you could be upset about a hook up or a friend dying, but... This was Michael. He was deteriorating in her hands. 

She tried to think about a time maybe he'd let on that he was in a relationship with someone and couldn't remember it. She always just assume he was like her, not like Max, and thought dating was stupid. It was fun to hook up, but she never really craved more. Hell, ever since Michael encouraged her to ignore labels and just dive into her sexuality, she stopped worrying about that pressure all together. Every time someone asked when she was going to get married and pissed her off, she had Michael right there confirming her feelings right alongside her.

And now he wasn't.

"It's not okay," Michael choked out, "It's never gonna be okay." 

Isobel laid her cheek between his shoulder blades, still combing through his hair and trying her damnedest to comfort him through something she couldn't understand.

"We-we were supposed to have more time," Michael cried, "This was supposed to be his last tour. He was supposed to come home. We were gonna get married, Isobel. Now he's just gone. He's _gone._ I didn't get to say goodbye."

Married. That one word rung in her mind through his whole speech. He wanted to get married. Her brother, the one person just like her, wasn't like her at all. He wanted to get married. She hadn't considered it. She hadn't wanted to.

She thought through the catalogue of people she'd hooked up with and not a single one had she ever wanted to actually be with romantically. It never crossed her mind. Was it possible she still hadn't met the one? 

She pushed the thoughts out of her head for later. Michael deserved her full attention.

"It's not over yet," she whispered, "They might still find him."

"But–"

"And if they don't, then I'm here. You're not alone, okay?" Isobel promised him. Michael choked on a sob, but he nodded.

She held him until the phone called to say he was found alive. Barely, but alive.

They slept easier after that.

.5.

Josh, Brandy, Caroline, Sam.

Isobel dated every different type of person she could find, trying to find _her_ person. They all either bored her, went too fast, or wanted to push boundaries that she didn't like being pushed. PDA was much different when it was something like holding hands and she didn't like it. 

In fact, she hated all of it. She was almost 30 and she'd been dating even though she didn't really want to. She'd heard women online say it was fine to be single, but it still didn't sound right. She single didn't feel like the right word. She wanted _something_... just not _that_. She didn't know how to describe it.

"You think there's something wrong with me?" Isobel asked Michael as they laid out by the pool she'd had installed during the winter. He turned his head to her, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. 

"What?"

"I want like a perpetual fuck buddy instead of a boyfriend or a girlfriend," Isobel said, "I don't mind it being the same person for awhile, you know, but just not like _that_. Every time I've tried, everyone wants something different than I do. Is that so wrong?"

"No," Michael said, "Who said it was?"

"I mean, my mom, society," Isobel explained. Michael snorted.

"Fuck society."

"Yeah, but still. Even you have a person, what if I don't?" Isobel said. Michael shrugged.

"I wouldn't really call Alex my _person_ ," Michael said, "But I'm sure you have someone out there."

"What if I don't want one?"

Michael paused for a few seconds before saying, "You don't have to have one."

"Then why did you have a dramatic pause?" He stayed silent for too long again. "Michael!"

"Sorry, I'm just thinking," Michael said, "Is it commitment you're not interested in or is it the, like, romantic relationship part?" 

She thought about it, but it didn't long to find her answer as she filtered through her failed relationships. It was fine up until the point they started expecting her to be a girlfriend or started treating her like one.

"Romantic part," she said as confidentially as she could. He hummed and laid back on the chair.

"Have you ever heard of asexuality?" he asked. 

"Yeah, but I'm not that. Definitely not that," she said. He snorted.

"Yeah, but there's a word for the other side of things too. There's aromanticism, kinda sounds like what you're saying. Or at least what I know about it," he explained. Isobel's mouth felt a little dry.

"What happened to fuck labels?"

"I mean, yeah, still fuck labels. But they can be helpful sometimes when you feel alone," Michael explained, "And that might help. I can help you look into it."

"Okay," she agreed softly.

They stayed silent for a little longer as she mulled over the word. If that was it, then she had an answer. She liked the idea of having an answer. She also liked the idea of not having to fucking worry about something so trivial.

That sounded nice.

+1

"You're fucking married!"

"I'm fucking married!"

Isobel hugged Michael so tight she nearly lifted him off his feet. He just laughed helplessly, so unrelentingly happy. And she was happy for him. Maybe she didn't get it, but it didn't matter. He was happy and that mattered.

"This is so fucking weird," Michael laughed, looking around the room at their tiny little reception. Alex was sitting beside his brother, Greg, talking about whatever brothers like them talked about. 

"I bet," she said, resting her head against his shoulder as they stared out at the party.

It took a little while, but Isobel finally realized that her relationships were just going to be a little bit different. Just remove the romance. It made it harder to find someone, but, honestly, it was worth it now that she had a word and an understanding. Queer platonic partners weren't easy to come by where they lived, but she didn't even care. She was finally happy with her situation.

"I'm so happy for you," Isobel said. She'd gotten to walk him down the aisle which was an unforeseen dream of hers. "You and Alex are gonna be so happy." 

"I hope so," Michael breathed, "A long goddamn time coming. I'm ready to just fucking be with him without all the bullshit." 

"Well," Isobel said, "Your time is now."

"Yeah."

He rested his cheek against her head and watched as Alex squeezed his brothers arm before getting up to go speak to someone else. Isobel watched as Greg sort of folded in on himself after Alex left, curling over his phone.

"Don't tell Alex, but his brother's kind of hot," Isobel noted. Michael snorted.

"You know what, Greg might actually be a good fit for you. His dad fucked him up real bad."

"Oh, thanks for that."

"No," Michael laughed, "I meant he's got a bad track record at girlfriends 'cause he doesn't give them enough attention or whatever. Married to his job, he said. But he's nice and he does his best, so I say go for it. See if you guys fit." 

"Ooh," Isobel said, slowly peeling herself off Michael, "Gonna go see if I can offer something more his speed, you go blow your husband." Michael laughed and let her go.

"Oh, and, Izzy?" he said before she got too far. She hummed as she turned back to him. "You're my person. Not Alex. Just thought you should know."

And that meant more to her than anything else. 

**Author's Note:**

> Also on my Tumblr: spaceskam


End file.
